A Flaw in Excellence
by mixtapes
Summary: AU. Nazi Germany. He is a soldier, forced to fight. She is of Jewish descent, born to die. It was a love affair destined for destruction. TG -ON OFFICIAL HIATUS-
1. Prologue

_Note_: I feel so accomplished! I've posted 2 things today. I really hope you guys enjoy this story. It's a dramatic and sometimes angsty romance and it's also a full length story. The more reviews I get, the faster the next chapter goes up! Just as a side note, the entire story will be written in English, for your benefit. Remember, this is short because it's a prologue. (:

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**a flaw in excellence**

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_Prologue_

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This was what it all came down to.

When you were younger, your parents always told you that you would have to make more and more choices as you grew up – some would have a long-lasting effect while others would barely matter. Some would bring you joy and others would cause you pain and regret. Some were obvious, some you had to think about for days, and sometimes you still weren't sure if it was right.

Everyone had to make choices.

He sighed and leaned his head against the wall. He thought of his father, telling him to make the family proud and fight for the well-being of Germany. He thought of his friend, who was so torn and broken by the war that he was convinced that the only way to make things better was to kill. And he thought of _her_, remembering how she begged and pleaded with him to do what was right in his heart. They were three very different people, and they were all important to him. They all wanted him to make the right choice, but what was the right choice? It was different for all of them. Did he know what the right choice was for him? Could he trust himself to make a decision that would have a positive effect? Was there even a better choice?

His time was running out, and he had to come up with a resolution soon. There was only one certain thing: his choice would change his life forever.

Yes, everyone had a choice – and it was time for Troy Bolton to make his.

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	2. The First Strike

_Note_: I hope that you all know that I don't approve at all of the Nazi time period. In all honesty, I don't. Just wanted to make sure you all know that. And the characters are older than high school age in this story. Maybe eighteen or nineteen, in order to make it more realistic.

And THANKS for the amazing reviews, and to all the people who have already put this on alerts and favorites. You lucky kids, you get a fast update because of all the feedback. Same things goes for the next chapter!

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The First Strike

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The man threw the newspaper forcefully on the table. He appeared to be approximately forty five years of age, though as he glared down at the weekly newspaper in disdain, someone might have mistaken him for fifty. Indeed, he looked exhausted and drained as he pulled out a chair and sat down gruffly, glowering. He didn't look up or greet the woman that hurried down the stairs, hastily throwing a dressing gown over her nightgown.

"What is it? What's happened? I heard you slam the front door," she said apprehensively, stopping at the foot of the stairs. When he didn't answer her, she insisted aggressively, "Tell me what happened. You shouldn't go off scaring everyone if there's nothing wrong. You know better than to do that. We are _all_ worried, Jack, if you couldn't tell."

He completely disregarded her lecture, instead directing his cold gaze at the stairs. The woman frowned and crossed her arms over chest, trying to regain his attention by tapping her foot. The man named Jack did not pay her any mind. He stood up and walked over to the stairs. "Where's Troy?" He asked.

"Up in his room, where else would he be?" she replied bitterly, upset that he'd been so difficult lately. She understood that numerous things were causing him stress, but why was it so hard for him to see that they were stressing her out as well? His distant and frosty behavior certainly wasn't helping anything.

"I need to speak him." He walked up the stairs purposefully. It had been possible to pretend before, to delay ...but now the time to take action had arrived. They could no longer stand on the sidelines. Jack Bolton wasn't an idiot: it was a matter of killing or being killed. And no amount of turning a blind eye could change what was happening. They would have to take part if they wanted to save themselves.

He was halfway up the stairway when she spoke again. "It's me, isn't it? You regret it." She had not moved from next to the dining room table, and as he looked at her, her eyes were glassy and her voice was uneven.

"What are you talking about, Lillian?" He stopped in his tracks and looked down at her dismissively, hoping to brush off the matter as nothing at all and pretend that everything was fine, just fine, but his indifferent demeanor only seemed to confirm her suspicions.

"You can pretend in front of Troy, Jack, but you can't fool me. I know that you know. When did you figure it out?"

Jack shook his head and continued his walk up the stairs. "Not now, Lillian. I don't have time for this. I need to speak to Troy." Forcing himself to look away from her partly hurt and partly angry expression, he headed to the first door on the left side of the hallway. He skipped over the common courtesy of knocking and opened the door. "Troy." He said his son's name loudly, his intent was waking him up immediately without wasting any more time.

The dark blond haired boy did not stir. Jack cleared his throat, and tried again, raising his voice. "_Troy_!" This time, the boy sat up quickly, his cobalt eyes opening wide as he glanced around the room in shock for a few seconds. When he saw no commotion except for his father, still standing rigidly by the door, he frowned. "Good morning to you too Dad."

"Morning," Jack said stiffly. "There's no point beating around the bush Troy. I have something to say and I'm just going to say it. You're a big boy, you can handle it." He cleared his throat again. "The newspaper this morning revealed some very essential things. I'm going to be frank. Hitler is only growing more powerful. They're recruiting, Troy, and we can no longer turn a blind eye." His father paused, staring at him cautiously. When Troy did not say a word, he proceeded, "Troy, you know what I am asking you to do. It is unavoidable now. We have to do it, to save ourselves. I have managed to delay our participation by finding names of Jews who are in hiding, but this cannot be postponed any longer."

But Troy wouldn't look at his father. He glared down at the carpet, persisting. "We can hide too. We can get out of the country, we can change our names, hide our identities, fake our own murders. There's always a way around it, Dad."

"Not anymore," Jack snapped. "Not that it's any of your business, Troy, but I've also uncovered something else recently. It is essential that we pledge allegiance to Hitler. It's for the greater good of Germany, anyway."

"Dad!" He couldn't believe his own ears. How could his father think that this bigotry was for the greater good?

Jack took a deep breath. "Troy. I'm asking you to sign up. You won't have to fight really, you'll lend a hand at one of the concentration camps nearby. Troy—as your father, I'm asking you—I only want what's best—"

"This doesn't have to be the only way!" He'd never felt so angry, how could his dad ask him to do this? To assist in the murders of innocent people, people who had done nothing wrong?

"You forget that I have a high position in the government! They expect this of me. They're going to kill us Troy, it's kill or be killed and you know it—"

"Then I'd rather die," Troy spat furiously.

"Then you are the only one." Jack said coldly. "You cannot do this. Not to your mother. It would break her heart."

"Right," Troy agreed, his tone as cold and bitter as Jack's. "And it would break _your_ reputation. That's the only reason you care."

"I will not be spoken to like that." He stared at Troy. "I am disappointed in you. I am asking you a favor, a favor that will save your family. If you cannot grant me that, then we will have nothing to do with each other." Troy's face only hardened in response, and Jack seemed to weaken, just the slightest bit. And then, a word that Troy had never heard from his father, a word that he never would have believed his father would ever say in his lifetime, slipped out.

"_Please_, Troy." Jack Bolton had never begged, and up until this moment, Troy would have laughed if anyone had said the words 'Jack' and 'plead' in the same sentence. Jack was a strong, powerful, and independent man, and people begged him, not the other way around. Troy had never heard his father say 'please' or 'thank you', and yet here he was, beseeching. "I need this from you. You don't have to mean it. You don't have to fire a gun, you don't have to do anything expect make sure that no one escapes the camp. They want at least a year of service, and then you leave. No strings attached."

Maybe it was the fact that he did love his father, and his father had never asked him to do anything for the sake of his family. At that moment, Troy wasn't sure at all. But before he could change his mind or really think it through, the words were out of his mouth, faster than a gunshot. "Okay, I'll do it."

His father promised he wouldn't have to do anything that would bother his conscience. He would just be there, feign loyalty to Hitler, and then it would all be over. No strings attached.

Troy believed him.

Oh, how wrong he was.

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When she opened her eyes, she knew immediately that something was wrong. The house was too quiet, whereas she normally woke up to the noise of bustling activity in the kitchen or the dining room. The windows were closed, the drapes pulled tightly shut over them, and she could have sworn that she had left at least one window the previous night. The brunette distractedly ran a hand through her dark curls and sat up, glancing around for anything suspicious.

As if on cue, the door to her bedroom opened and a tall, blonde woman who looked to be about thirty years of age quickly came in and shut the door behind her. "Gabriella? You're awake?" she whispered.

Gabriella nodded. "Yes." She murmured, mimicking the woman's quiet tone. She had no idea why they were whispering, but she was smart enough to know that they weren't doing it fun. "Is something wrong, Madison?"

Madison groaned, leaning on the closed door for support. Gabriella felt a chill run through her. Something was very wrong, she could feel it. Madison was usually one of the most cheerful people that Gabriella knew. "Gabriella," she said in an undertone, her voice now deathly quiet. "_They know_."

Those two words sent her spiraling downhill. She rose from the bed, shuffling over to where Madison was standing. "How? How do they know? How do you know that they know?" It didn't make sense, any of it. They'd been so very careful, ever since Hitler came on the scene, she had worked to erase every bit of her past, she'd fled without a word to anybody...

"Gabriella, I am so sorry." Madison sunk to the floor, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I thought I was careful," she said beseechingly, putting her hand over her mouth so that her words came out muffled. "I really tried, Gabriella, you have to believe me. But someone found out ...I'm guessing it was someone who had a secret of their own to hide, they must have given you away in exchange for their own safety, but Gabriella, it's not safe anymore, you and your sister have to get out of here!"

Gabriella's breath hitched in her throat. "Where do you think we should go?"

"Somewhere far away," Madison whispered. "I would come with you, but if they come to check, it will only look more suspicious if I've left too. And you can't leave Germany, they have people patrolling the borders. Listen Gabriella, you have to know that I am so, so sorry—"

"Oh Madison, I don't blame you," Gabriella consoled her without hesitation. "On the contrary, I have nothing but respect and gratitude for you. You've hid me and my sister and our identities from everybody, even though it would mean death for you if they found out. You've done all that you could do, and you've become one of the few people I can trust, ever since my mother died. Thank you Madison." Tears slid down Gabriella's cheeks as well as she hugged the woman who had done so much for her.

Madison only cried harder. "Where are you going to go?" she choked. "I can't let you leave alone with your sister, but I can't let you stay here. It's not safe anymore, and Nadia ...Nadia's only thirteen..."

"We're going to be okay," Gabriella assured her firmly. "Nadia is smart. We'll get through this. Just protect yourself, Madison, okay? Don't worry about me."

She stared at the girl whom she'd grown to love as her own daughter in disbelief. "You are so brave," she said admiringly. "Your mother would be really proud of you, Gabriella. I hope you know—"

But she was cut off by the sound of someone banging deafeningly on the front door.

"_We know you are in there! Open up this door! This is the Green Police_!"

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_Note_: Wow, I'm mean, aren't I? But I do love cliffies. I know everything seems pretty confusing, but it will all be explained in upcoming chapters. And Gabriella is NOT going to die. At least, not in the next chapter. So don't go all freaky on me, 'kay? (:

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